I wandered the halls of the Janitor's Guildhall for a long time. While I wasn't nervous about talking to anyone, the receptionist incident did leave me a little rattled. I didn't want to deal with someone who might have serious problems with the words "excuse me."
So I didn't really ask for directions.
There were a lot more hallways and space in general than I would've guessed from looking at the building from outside. Although, judging by the staircase I had to take to get to the lower floors, I had a feeling the place extended underground.
I saw all manner of people milling about the halls and common areas; elderly folk hobbling along on canes or walkers, speaking quietly with each other, young boys and girls, anywhere from fifteen years or so to my own age, and every kind of person in between. Most of them wore the gray coveralls I had seen on the one gentleman in reception before; I assumed this was the uniform.
I also noticed that there were many different races of people here. I had vague memories of what elves and dwarves were, and there were plenty of them, but also saw even smaller folk that I discovered were called "halflings," and a couple of people that towered over the rest by a foot or more. I was pretty sure I briefly saw a large elephant man. I couldn't be sure.
There were all kinds of rooms and unique spaces as well: I discovered lounge areas, training yards, a public bath house, and so much more, even some things that didn't make sense, like an open garden underneath a crystal blue sky. This was startling because, I reminded myself, we were certainly underground.
I was collecting even more questions and not getting any answers, so I finally shrugged and decided to ask someone where the mess hall was. The portly, middle-aged janitor I spoke with told me that I just had to go down two floors. I had been heading there the whole time.
The hall itself was moderately crowded with the same motley assortment of people. The place was pretty large, and the crowd was far from packing it to the gills. I saw a long counter on the far side where people were lined up and receiving plates of food. The whole place smelled delicious.
I wound my way around one of the numerous long, stretching wooden tables toward the food when a group caught my eye. Even with all the unique folks around, they stood out. I stopped and observed them.
There were four of them.
The first one I noticed was a young man who looked to be about my own age; he had short, spiky black hair and had a pair of goggles pulled down over his eyes. Human? He was fiddling with some small metal objects in front of him very intently. A tinkerer of some kind, I figured. Probably whip-smart, perhaps not the best socially.
Beside him was a short girl, shorter even than the dwarves I'd seen, with short, pointy ears and fiery red hair. Most likely a halfling. She had a rather large book open on the table in front of her and seemed thoroughly engrossed in it. She would occasionally pause, produce a small vial from somewhere, give it a small sniff, make a note in her book, and put the vial away. A brainy one, I assumed. Probably sweet, but a know-it-all.
Across the table from them was a thin blonde girl, with a sharp-featured but pretty face and long blonde hair woven into a meticulous plait. Her long, pointed ears marked her as an elf, based on what little I knew. She wore an expression that would make sour milk seem sweet. I got the sense that that was likely her default face.
But the one that caught my attention the most was the older gentleman beside the elf girl. He was definitely a dwarf, based on the broad shoulders and squat physique, plus the giant, double-braided beard, but even sitting down I could see that he was exceptionally tall for a dwarf. His feet even touched the ground from his chair.
His face was weathered – he had clearly done some traveling in his life and seen some things. He observed the others with a calm demeanor, and I got the sense that he cared deeply for them.
I knew immediately this was Foreman Hask.
This being the man I was supposed to report to, I knew I should probably head right over and be professional, but something was stopping me that I couldn't quite place.
If this was supposed to be my team for this job moving forward, ostensibly I'd be spending a considerable amount of time with them. Getting to know them, learning who they were - their fears, hopes, dreams, insecurities…
Something about that made my stomach turn. It didn't feel like disgust…more like fear. And I couldn't quite place why.
It was most likely because, as far as my brain was concerned, I'd been alive for a couple of months, and hadn't met many people, let alone built relationships…that was definitely it.
That wasn't it.
I shook my head and decided to head to the mess line to collect a plate. My stomach was protesting the fact that I hadn't given it food, as stomachs were wont to do. Remedying that was something I could definitely do. Food didn't come with complications.
As I took a spot at the back of the line, I couldn't get my mind off the thought spiral I was in. Why was I nervous about meeting coworkers? I felt like that should be exciting. The anxiety I felt was something nameless; perhaps there was a reason that I couldn't remember.
They seemed like a group that knew each other well. Were familiar with each other and probably trusted each other well. I just couldn't see myself stepping into that as "some guy."
And the fact that I was tying myself in knots over it was also frustrating. So much so that I didn't notice myself moving up in line. My thoughts were sharply interrupted by a bassy woman's voice. "What'll it be?"
I looked up to meet the gaze of perhaps the strangest woman I had seen yet: She was broad-shouldered and portly, but in a way that told me she could lift me over her head with one hand without breaking a sweat. Her skin was a pale green, her eyes sharp pools of brown, and from her lower lips jutted two pointed tusks. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I knew that she was an orc. I hadn't seen any orcs here until now. Her hair was held back by a building hairnet, and she wore an expression of polite impatience.
I stared blankly, caught unprepared. "Uuuuhhhhh…"
The tusked lady smirked and adjusted her apron a bit. "New blood?"
I bit back my instinctive response of "yes, ma'am" after a horrifying flashback of being in reception earlier. "Uh-yeah…yeah-yes."
She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that felt genuine and made me feel a little more relaxed. "Well, welcome to the mess. Ya got three choices for food every meal. Right now it's between wolf steak and 'taters, roasted garlic and greens soup, or stonebowl curry."
All of the options presented sounded incredible. She could tell I was feeling indecisive and on the spot. "I'd recommend the curry. Spicier than a dragon's arse, but delicious. Just bring a book to the privy with you later."
Her flippant speech and patient attitude, despite me holding up the ever-growing line, put me at ease. "I'll try the curry."
She ladled some into a bowl and passed it over, with a wooden spoon and two pieces of crusty bread. My stomach growled loudly. I thanked her and genuinely meant it, and stepped away from the mess line with my food in hand. I felt a little more confident for the distraction.
That confidence lasted the time it took me to turn around and almost run straight into Foreman Hask.
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He was much taller than I expected: he came up to about my chin in height, but was still most definitely a dwarf. He had an easy, commanding presence. I was looking down at him physically and still somehow felt like the smaller person.
"Callister, right?" His voice was deep and rough, but not unfriendly. He reminded me of the farmers who would come to the House of Healing with gifts of vegetables and supplies for the sisters.
I straightened my shoulders formally, unsure if I should salute, and concerned for the curry in my hand if the answer was "yes." "Y-yes, sir!"
Hask grunted. "It's lunch time, kid. No need to be formal."
I allowed myself to relax, but only a bit.
"Reception sent me your description earlier. Heard you pissed off ole Emily, eh?"
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly.
"Don't worry about it. Happens way more than it should."
He gave the tiniest trace of a smirk; I could tell he was watching me intently. It made me feel like a bear being sized up by a rival. He clapped me firmly on the shoulder, and his grip felt like a vice. "Come on. You gotta meet your teammates."
He led me confidently around the tables, through the crowd, and to the place where I had seen him sitting with the rest of his companions. They all looked up at his approach, and their expressions ranged from curiosity to excitement to disdain.
"Alright, team. This here's Lorne Callister. He's the rookie we were told to expect." He gestured to the others. "Callister, meet your team. This is Tessa Morian."
The short, red-headed girl smiled brightly at me from across the table.
"Kael Lithwell."
The boy with the goggles gave a trepidatious wave before returning to the tools and gadgets he had sprawled out before him.
"And Alara Veyne."
The grumpy elven girl acknowledged me only by looking away and tilting her nose up with a huff.
Hask resumed his position at the table. "Sit. Eat. We'll get to work stuff later. For now, fill yer belly and get to know your crew. You'll be spending a lot of time with them."
As I took my seat, I was startled as Tessa, the smiling, exuberant redhead, nearly threw herself over the table at me to shake my hand. "Hi, Lorne! I'm Tessa…but Foreman Hask already said that…It's nice to meet you! Is it your first day? Oooo, if it's your first day, where are you from? What did you do before coming here? Do you like the Guild Hall? Are you nervous? What about-"
"Tessa. Relax. You're being a lot," Kael said, not looking up from his work.
Hurt flickered across her face for a split second, gone the moment it arrived. "Sorry! I get excited to meet new friends."
The blonde elf, Alara, gave a quiet, derisive snort but said nothing. I glanced over: she was still avoiding my gaze, head turned, but I happened to look over to catch her peeking at me from the corner of her eye. I let it go.
"It's okay, Tessa." I did my best to smile genuinely. "Maybe start with one question?"
Tessa beamed like the sun. "Okay, okay. One question…one question…oh that's so hard, I have so many! But I guess you can only answer one at a time…where are you from?"
I took a bite of my curry as she spoke and immediately knew what the cook lady had meant. It felt like someone had placed a burning torch directly onto my tongue. I felt tears welling in my eyes, and I immediately scanned the table frantically for a drink of some sort. I spotted a pitcher of water with a glass nearby and lunged.
As I guzzled the refreshing liquid as if I'd never had it before, Hask said with a short huff of amusement. "Stonebowl curry. Dwarven specialty. This is the mild version."
I gasped, my face beet red. "This…is…mild?!"
Hask's only response was to chuff again, but as the initial assault of spice began to fade, I tasted the flavor of the curry beneath it, still clinging to my tongue: earthy and savory, but with a hint of sweetness to it. It really was delicious. "That's….actually really good."
Hask grunted approvingly. "Tasty, fills your belly, puts hair on your chest."
I wiped tears out of my eyes and turned back to Tessa. "Sorry. To answer your question…I can't really answer your question."
Tessa cocked her head like a curious puppy. "Why not?"
"I…can't remember."
Kael looked up curiously from the tool he was fidgeting with to stare at me. "Amnesia, huh? Classic."
Tessa's eyes lit up like fireballs. "Amnesia?! Oh, that's so mysterious and cool! Who were you? Well, I suppose you don't remember, huh? I wonder who you were…how did you get amnesia? Oh, you probably wouldn't know that either. Did you get hit in the head? Oooo, how did you get hit in the head? Did you make someone mad? I bet you made someone mad. OOOOOO, were you a criminal? Did you see too much and get thrown in a river with rocks tied to your ankles? Were you severely beaten beforehand? What if-"
"Tessa! You're being rude!" Kael's sharp words stopped the girl abruptly.
She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. "Sorry."
I hadn't said anything, but I felt guilty anyway. "No, it's okay…honestly, you almost make me wish I had a life that cool. I don't really know."
The fact that she didn't seem very far off was something I kept to myself.
Tessa sat back, her smile a tad subdued but nowhere near gone. I saw Kael glance back up at her and give a small sigh. "Sorry, Tess. I didn't mean to snap at you."
The girl shrugged. "It's fine. I was being loud. I know you hate that while you're working. I'm sorry too."
I had called it. These two, at least, were fast friends.
Tessa turned her attention to me again. "Kael's a tinkerer. He does traps and stuff. Like machines."
I observed the complicated device Kael was working on: it appeared to be a very complicated piece of machinery, several gears and springs, rotating parts. It had me immediately confused. "What's that you're building, Kael?"
I thought it was a simple question, but I saw Kael's expression go from focused and intent on his work to skeptical and defensive. "Do you really want to know?"
I could hear something in his tone. I got the sense that he once had to begin asking that question, after finding out that a lot of people didn't want to know. "Absolutely."
I was not expecting his face to dramatically brighten. His eyes twinkled, and he indicated the device. "I'm trying to reverse engineer a trigger mechanism for a trap from a dungeon my friend just went through. I didn't get to see the trap, but he brought me this. Whoever built it used a nested magic induction loop tied to a pressure-triggered gear train. When it activates, the mechanism routes power through a differential thaumic regulator—looks like it chooses between outcomes. Spikes, gas, or… something less polite. I'm still mapping the branches."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that he had lost me at "Magic induction loop," but he was excited to explain it, so I nodded along and let him continue. "The interesting bit is this rune cluster here—see the staggered etching? That's not decorative. It's sampling intent, or something close to it. Means the trap isn't just reactive; it's interpretive. Nasty work."
I glanced over at Alara as Kael was speaking and saw her expression growing more and more irritated, though I could not understand why. After a long moment, she shoved her chair back and stalked away from the table, mumbling something about dessert.
I shrugged and focused back on Kael. "I'm trying to replicate the control logic without triggering the backflow failsafe. If I'm right, excess mana dumps into this crystal housing and vents catastrophically when it overloads. I've never seen machinery this complex before. It's incredibly fascinating…"
He looked up at me, perhaps expecting an excited reaction, but I must have been wearing my confusion on my face, and I watched his smile falter. "I lost you, didn't I?"
It wasn't an accusation. It wasn't condescension. It was disappointment. And not with me.
I could tell within seconds of him launching into his explanation that he was incredibly skilled in his craft, and very passionate, but equally sensitive about it.
I scrambled for a response, and decided to go with the truth. "Honestly? Yeah…sorry…"
I saw him purse his lips, eyes sad, and I quickly continued. "But people don't get that excited about something that's not super awesome. Maybe you could teach me about it?"
His face relaxed, and I was relieved to see a sheepish smile creep back across it. "Yeah. Yeah, I could show you some things. Not right now though, I gotta focus in on this thing. See where my finger is? That lever I'm pressing is holding back a small vial of liquid that is either meant to be a gear lubricant that allows the machine to self-maintain…or a deadly neurotoxin. I haven't quite figured out which."
Hask startled. "Lithwell! What have I told you about bringing dangerous traps to the mess hall?"
Kael waited a beat before answering. "That seven times is too many, and if I did it again, I would receive another demerit?"
"Exactly. Aaaand?"
Kael sighed. "And two hundred pushups."
Hask grunted in the affirmative. "That's right. You can get started on those in my office while I file your demerit paperwork. But for now…" He stood up, stacking his dish and cutlery in a neat pile. "Finish your lunch and take the rest of the day. Big job tomorrow. If this were a team of all rookies, I'd take you into a basic starter dungeon, but you'll be getting the trial-by-fire treatment. Rest up.
He looked over at me. "Callister. You're bunking with Lithwell in the dorms. Behave yourselves, all of you."